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It’s a Friday afternoon. I’m down beside the Royal Canal, taking photos of Croke Park, the Irish gaelic sports stadium.
A bloke with a dog walks past.
"Hey mister, can you take pictures of dogs with that camera?"
"Uh, yeah, I could, I suppose"
"Can you take a picture of Max? He’s only seven months old, and me last dog was killed by a car."
"Ah. My sister’s dog was killed by a car two weeks ago. Staffy-whippet cross"
"Right. Very intelligent then", taps his head, meaninfully.
I get him to write down his address. Hey gets a bit confused doing it.
"Sorry man, I had a big operation on my head, and I get mixed up", takes off his baseball cap, shows me criss-cross collection of scars all over his crown and down to his chin.
When I got Richie and max to stay still long enough, I managed to get some photos. I’m posting them to Richie. Hope he puts them on his wall